


Close Quarters

by PeppyBismilk, Songbirdsara



Series: Swordplay and Seamen: Tales of the High Seas [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication, Crack Treated Seriously, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Melodrama, Naughty Nautical Metaphors, Parrots, Romance, Sequel, The Pirate Equivalent of Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20618741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyBismilk/pseuds/PeppyBismilk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbirdsara/pseuds/Songbirdsara
Summary: Seung-gil never wanted to leave Phichit's side, but he wasn't prepared to spend every moment of every day with him, either. It couldn’t be normal nor healthy, to crave time alone while loathing every second apart. But the only thing worse than living in close quarters is being oceans apart.---How did Seung-gil and Phichit go from joined at the hip to separate ships? Find out in this installment ofSwordplay and Seamen: Tales of the High Seas!Story by PeppyBismilk, for the series by Songbirdsara and PeppyBismilk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is a direct sequel to _[Uncharted Waters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069797)_ that bridges the gap to _[Blow the Man Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19872916)_, but true to my brand, it's all Seungchuchu.

Katsuki led a crew of fools.

Not one of them, not even Katsuki himself, thought anything of Seung-gil continuing to share a room with Phichit. 

It wasn’t that they knew and didn’t care; they honestly thought Phichit was just being charitable. They thought Seung-gil slept on the floor. The small, fanged one had even offered him a spare mat.

Seung-gil overheard Katsuki talking to Phichit one day. “You know, you don’t have to watch him anymore. I hear you won’t even let him bathe in peace.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Phichit had replied (in a voice that Seung-gil knew came with a wink). “Besides, I think he likes it.” But still, Katsuki was klueless.

“He said it’s high time I tried to trust you,” Phichit reported in his quarters later.

Seung-gil looked him dead in the eye and said, “Perhaps you should tell him you trusted me enough to blindfold you and tie you to the bed last night with your own scarves.” 

Phichit flushed red enough to match his devilish grin (even though it had been his idea).

(Patches the golden hamster decided to give birth in the very same scarves the next morning, but Seung-gil did his best to dissociate the two acts. It got easier once the scarves “accidentally” ended up in the stove.)

If Seung-gil cared what people thought, he would have marched right up to the Kaptain and told him, but he couldn’t be bothered. Phichit, on the other hand, seemed determined to find out just how much he could get away with before someone caught on, as if the krew’s ignorance was a challenge.

A challenge he rose to while Seung-gil was on his hands and knees, sweating his ass off on the deck trying to fix his water filter. 

“I like you on all fours,” Phichit called from his post at the Kaptain’s side. “Reminds me of last night.”

“Phichit!” Katsuki scolded. “Seung-gil is on our side now. You’d better not be subjecting him to corporal punishment.”

“In my defense, he asked for it,” Phichit said. 

Now Phichit was just getting cocky. “Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face?” Seung-gil growled. 

“That’s not what you wanted last night!” 

Seung-gil could just picture his smug little smile. He extracted himself from the frame of his machine and stood, pausing to stretch his back and wipe the sweat from his brow. Phichit’s eyes burned into him, hotter than the sun.

“He gives as good as he gets, Kap’n,” Phichit insisted. 

Katsuki heaved a sigh. “If you two can’t keep your hands to yourselves, I’m going to have to separate you.”

Seung-gil turned on his heel to glare at Phichit, delighting in his squeak of surprise. 

“Oh, it hasn’t come to blows,” Phichit went on, recovering quickly. Their eyes locked as Seung-gil approached. “Just the usual heave-and-shove.”

Katsuki groaned. “Masumi has enough to deal with in the infirmary as it is.”

Seung-gil was just paces away now. 

“You know how it is when I run my mouth, Kap’n.” Phichit’s eyes glinted, daring him to come closer. “He has no choice but to lay down the hornPIPE!” 

Phichit’s voice shot up an octave as Seung-gil heaved him onto his shoulder. But he settled in quickly and looked up at Katsuki.

“See, Yuuri? He’s just giving me what I deserve.” He couldn’t help but dig the hole deeper. But Phichit fell silent when it became clear Seung-gil was heading not for his bunk but to the side of the ship. “Wait!” He grabbed at Seung-gil’s ribs, kicking and thrashing. “Seung-gil! Hold on! What are you—AAAAH!”

_SPLASH._ Phichit hit the water. 

“Seung-gil!” Katsuki gasped, running to the port side. 

“He deserved it,” Seung-gil muttered. He felt a little guilty, but Phichit had already surfaced and was swimming to the side of the boat where Guang Hong waited with a rope. 

“Well, maybe, but…” Katsuki raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “I ought to lock you both in the brig until you can play nice.” 

“You sure that’s the best idea?” Seung-gil raised an eyebrow. They would probably play _very_ nice down there now that the circumstances were different. If Phichit forgave him for what he had just done, that is.

“Look, I don’t care how you bury the hatchet, just see that you do.” Katsuki sounded final, but he turned and marched right into Phichit, who was already back on board and dripping wet. 

“Oh, we’ve already buried it a time or two.”

Seung-gil’s nostrils flared. Phichit really was a glutton for punishment, but with his now see-through shirt clinging to his chest and his hair sparkling in the sunlight, it was hard to be mad at him. 

“Then bury it deeper,” Katsuki commanded.

“Aye, Kap’n!” Phichit saluted him and Seung-gil gave a curt nod. 

The Kaptain walked off, muttering, “Somebody bring me a dog.” 

“Ahh, nothing like a swim on a hot day.” Phichit stretched his arms over his head and the fabric of his shirt crept up to reveal his sharp hip bones. “Wanna help me out of these wet clothes?”

Seung-gil’s gaze travelled lower, catching on Phichit’s legs, the way his soaked pants hugged every inch of him.

“Oi, would you two do us all a favor and just bang already?” Crispino groused.

It was almost a relief—someone else on this ship had a brain. 

“All this unresolved tension is killing me,” she went on. “Just get it out of your systems and move on with your lives.” 

Seung-gil exchanged a glance with Phichit. _Unresolved?_ So much for Crispino’s intellect.

Or maybe this was their chance—Seung-gil could kiss him then and there, resolve that tension right on the deck.

Or he could just lead Phichit back to his cabin.

But before either of them could move, the Kaptain’s giddy squeals cut through the silence.

“Puppies! Seung-gil! Guang Hong! More puppies are coming!” 

That kept everyone busy for the rest of the day, and gave Seung-gil an excuse to bathe later that night. 

The door creaked and Phichit poked his head inside. “Aww, I wanted to throw you in,” he whined. 

Seung-gil sat up in the tub, droplets of water falling from his hair to his shoulders. “Sorry.” He wasn’t sure whether he was apologizing for throwing Phichit overboard or denying him his revenge.

“Mind some company?”

Even though Seung-gil had been enjoying his first quiet moment of the day, he shook his head.

Phichit pulled off his clothes and slipped into the basin opposite Seung-gil. The water sloshed around them, a little splashing over the side. Both of them watched it hit the floor.

They probably needed to talk. 

“You’re not…” Seung-gil sighed and started the sentence again. “Are you mad about it?”

“About you tossing me in the drink?” Phichit asked. “It wasn’t fun, but in your defense, I was being a dick.”

“You were,” Seung-gil agreed. But he didn’t feel better until he added, “I’m sorry I threw you overboard.”

Phichit leaned forward, nudging Seung-gil’s knees apart to make room. “You wanna make it up to me?”

Rather than answer out loud, Seung-gil sought Phichit’s hips under the water to pull him closer. 

“I’ve been thinking about what Sara said,” Phichit began, “And I don’t think it’s out of my system yet.” 

“No?” Seung-gil took him by the helm. “Better try again.”

It still wasn’t out of their systems by the time they finished their bath and retired to Phichit’s room. Maybe if they were loud enough about burying the hatchet, people would take the hint. 

“How do either of you sleep?” wondered the one with the fangs—Minami—the next morning. “That parrot sure makes a racket!”

They didn’t bother telling him that Mambo had spent the night in the Kaptain’s quarters.

Not that Mambo didn’t try her hardest to prothletize. Thanks to an afternoon downpour that forced the three of them indoors, she learned the words “harder” and “faster” from Phichit. Surely that would put an end to the mystery.

“Did Kap’n teach Mambo to sail?” Guang Hong joked. 

Phichit shot Seung-gil a heated glance, and though it tossed his stomach like a sailboat in the wake of a whale, this too went unnoticed.

No one batted an eye when the two of them slipped away shortly after. How did Katsuki’s krew ever accomplish any piracy?

Of all the crew, the navigator seemed to have the best head on his shoulders—and it didn’t hurt that Leo de la Iglesia was more interested in making star charts than gossiping.

Usually.

“What’s the deal with you and Phichit?” Leo asked, in a rare moment when the latter was not at the former’s side.

If anyone could figure it out, it would be Leo. Seung-gil arched one eyebrow.

“If you don’t mind my asking, of course,” Leo clarified, drawing his chin almost to his chest in retreat.

“I mind.” Seung-gil’s retort came automatically and Leo flinched again. Maybe that was too cold. Phichit had suggested being a little nicer to everyone, and Leo was a good place to start. He was almost tolerable. “Sorry,” Seung-gil added, quieter.

Leo laughed, his shoulders easing. “It’s fine. I only asked because…” 

While Seung-gul waited for him to finish his thought, Phichit’s advice ran once more through his mind: _Talk to them. You might like them._

“Because?” prompted Seung-gil, but only because Phichit wanted him to. Well, maybe a small part of him wanted to know if Leo had caught on.

“Well,” Leo began, “don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes it looks like you want to eat him alive.”

Seung-gil coughed, but he was relieved, too. _Finally_.

“Ah, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Leo scratched the back of his neck before adding, “But it’s almost like…”

_ ...like we turn up our tails every night? And sometimes in the morning and again in the afternoon?  _

“Nah,” Leo cut into his thoughts. “I’m definitely imagining it.”

Seung-gil let out an inaudible sigh.

Leo didn’t notice. “Phichit’s a good man, for a pirate. You should give him a chance. Who knows? You might even learn to like each other.”

Hopeless, every single one of them. What did everyone think they were doing in Phichit’s room? Pining away, brooding in each other’s general direction? 

Thrilling though it was, stealing kisses in dark corners and sneaking off for secret trysts, it meant they were always together. When they weren’t physically touching, they had eyes on each other, openly daring the crew to see what was right in front of them.

But even when Seung-gil actually managed a moment to himself, Phichit still dominated his thoughts. Clouds, fish, his dogs...everything reminded Seung-gil of his lover, like he could no longer function on his own. Phichit admitted the same thing in private, though he seemed much happier about it.

Maybe it was the dearth of physical space. There was no solitude on a ship, but Seung-gil had no right to complain. Only Katsuki’s room was larger than Phichit’s, but shared between two people, three to eight dogs, up to thirty-two hamsters (at last count), and one parrot, the walls were closing in on him. 

He found himself spending more and more time in the head of the ship, pretending lunch had disagreed with him so that he might have a moment alone. It didn’t work. Every second away he yearned for Phichit, the awful smell his only distraction.

It couldn’t be normal nor healthy, to spend so much time with someone and yet miss them this much. To crave time alone but loathe being apart.

Seung-gil wasn’t sure which was worse: the lack of space or the guilt. 

By some miracle or curse, Katsuki had need of Phichit that evening, and longing burned in Seung-gil’s chest even as his head swam. Why was he suddenly so bad at being alone?

_ Because Phichit is everything to you now. _

No, that couldn’t be it. That was too frightening, too all-encompassing to be true. Maybe he just needed practice being alone again. If he had more time on his own, he could refocus. Feel like himself again. Come back to Phichit refreshed and not quite so desperate.

If he couldn’t stomach ten minutes of separation, he wasn’t sure how he’d last hours, but he’d work his way up to it.

Assuming he survived. 

Seung-gil groaned, pushing on his eyes as if he could push the thoughts away. This was exactly why he had to figure out how to be his own person again. The alternative was not an option. 

He would tell Phichit tonight. But first, he practiced on Yong. “Phichit. Light of my life. Horizon on my sea. I need space.” 

Yong tilted his head and padded away. _That was easy,_ he thought. Yes, Yong was a dog, and dogs were his specialty, but it boosted Seung-gil’s confidence nonetheless. 

When he retired for the night, he had every intention of telling Phichit what was troubling him. At least until he found Phichit waiting for him, sitting at the wooden desk in his quarters, facing the door with one leg propped up in invitation. He wore his ceremonial red and gold coat...and nothing else. 

All of Seung-gil’s resolve drained, or maybe it just went somewhere else.

“Miss me?” Phichit asked. 

Seung-gil was powerless but to nod and kiss him. They pushed everything off the desk, mindful of the hamsters, so that they might make better use of the space. 

He made sure Phichit kept the coat on.

Intertwined, as close as two bodies, two souls could possibly be, everything made sense. Every thrust chipped away at his unease until he felt whole again. Complete. What else was there but this?

But in the afterglow, long after he should have joined his lover in sleep, nothing was so simple. Phichit held Seung-gil too tight, stole the breath from his lungs, exhaled it in peaceful, steady puffs. It wasn’t fair.

Seung-gil itched to shift to the other side of the bed but he didn’t dare move. Phichit’s face, beatific in slumber, intoxicated him like no spirit could. Soft, delicate lashes, full lips ever so slightly puckered, black hair more exquisite than silk and styled only by perspiration and the pull of Seung-gil’s own fingers...

Compulsions hit with the force of cannonfire—he would kill for this man, would sail into the depths of hell if it pleased him, would buy him any hamster he fancied...

He’d given up his ship for Phichit, and he’d do it again. Happily.

Fear squeezed his heart tighter than Phichit cleaved to his chest. 

If he lost Phichit, the sun would never rise again.

Enough was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Songbirdsara for beta reading, being awesome, and writing these silly pirate stories with me. Thanks to mindifimoveincloser and Chel, too! I'm so grateful for all of you. 
> 
> And of course, thanks so much to you, the readers! It's fun to come up with innuendos, but knowing other people enjoy them makes it that much better. 
> 
> Curious about how Sara Crispino came to join Katsuki's krew? Then stay tuned for Songbirdsara's _Turncoat_, debuting on September 18th!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit and Seung-gil cross swords as they figure out what love means for them.

“You need space.” Phichit frowned as he echoed Seung-gil’s words. He tilted his head like Yong, only he didn’t walk away. Still naked, with his blanket pooled in his lap, he stretched out his arms until they hit the cabin walls. “I don’t know if you noticed, Seung-gil, but we’re on a ship. Not exactly spacious.”

“I know.”

Phichit’s lips curved into that smile he got whenever his thoughts turned pornographic. “You know, we’ll be making landfall soon. Then we can have all the space we want.”

Of course he wouldn’t understand. But how could anyone understand when Seung-gil was so bad at expressing himself? He squeezed his eyes shut and tried again. “I didn’t say  _ we _ needed space.”

“You sure? Because I have a few ideas that could definitely use a little...” Phichit’s eyes went wide as Seung-gil’s words sank in. “Wait. What do you mean?”

Seung-gil took a deep breath. Bada and Jimin held fast at his side for moral support. He plucked Peanut from his shoulder, unhooking the hamster’s tiny claws from his linens, and placed him on the desk. “I can’t breathe.”

“Is it the hamster piss?” Phichit wrinkled his nose, tempting Seung-gil to kiss and nuzzle him there and fall back into bed, but then Phichit started looking around the cabin, sniffing. “I know I missed some somewhere.” 

It wasn’t the hamsters—Seung-gil was raised by wolves, so he wasn’t squeamish. At least not about animal waste.

“Not that.” How had he ever convinced himself that talking about this, about anything, would be simple? “It’s you.”

Phichit’s mouth dropped open, crumpling Seung-gil’s heart like paper. “Me?”

“No.” Curse his sloppy tongue. Blaming Phichit was completely unfair. The real problem was the way Seung-gil reacted to him. “It’s me.” 

At this, Phichit’s whole face fell and his arms dropped like anchors into his lap. “_It’s not you, it’s me?_”

He said it like it was a common turn of phrase, and Seung-gil frowned. What did it mean?

“You’re breaking up with me,” Phichit muttered. 

“What?” Seung-gil’s eyebrows shot up. Breaking up was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t survive it, wouldn’t last a day… “No, I just need space.” 

“Well, then I’m confused, because that’s usually what people say when they don’t want to see someone anymore.” Phichit’s voice was cold, and he bent over the side of the bed to retrieve his pants.

All Seung-gil could manage was a weak, “It’s not like that.” Even to his own ears, it didn’t inspire confidence.

“It’s fine.” Phichit pulled his shirt over his head and snugged the laces. “I can read between the lines.”

“What lines?” Seung-gil wondered, desperation curling around his heart, crushing his windpipe. Jimin forcibly nuzzled his hand, and only then did Seung-gil realize how tense he had become. He took a deep breath. “I’m not saying it right.”

Phichit let out a hard sigh. “Well, could you try? Please?”

_ Anything for you, _ Seung-gil thought. He could deal with his own pain, but Phichit’s was too much to bear. 

He swallowed.

“Phichit. Light of my life. My horizon.” That was a good place to start. “I am in love with you. I have never felt this way about anyone—anything—before.”

“Neither have I,” Phichit said, his face brightening both the cabin and Seung-gil’s heart. If Phichit could still look at him like that, maybe it wasn’t hopeless.

The joy on his lover’s face helped him find words. “I care so much that I don’t know what to do with myself. I need space to figure it out. Without you.”

And just like that, the light went out. “Oh.”

Seung-gil didn’t know what else to say.

“You're confused?” Phichit asked. “Adrift on the sea of life?” 

“Yes.” He’d been self-sufficient his whole life, trusting only his dogs and his senses. Those instincts had carried him from ship to ship, saving him from countless close scrapes. Maybe those senses had repelled other people, but even his failure as a captain hadn’t changed who he was. 

But the day Katsuki and his crew stormed the Almavivo turned Seung-gil’s life upside down. Now it felt like his feet never touched the ground and his head was always three steps behind. Caring for someone else drained him. It hurt. 

“Everything’s different now,” he said. 

Phichit frowned. “And that’s bad?”

That was a good question. “I don’t know.” Phichit stared at him expectantly and he tried to find more words, but he hadn’t planned any of this. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It feels like I can’t breathe when you’re close to me. I feel dead when we’re apart. You keep me up at night. Sometimes I forget to eat.”

Phichit drew closer, a gentle smile on his face, and the huskies made room. He reached for Seung-gil’s hand, squeezed it in a way that was probably supposed to reassure him. “I’m pretty sure that’s just how it feels when you’re in love.”

“You seem to sleep just fine,” Seung-gil muttered.

Phichit shook his head. “Are you kidding? I sat up for ages this morning, looking at this wrinkle right here.” He traced a line in Seung-gil’s furrowed brow. “I was worried.”

“How do you stand it?” Worrying about Phichit took all of Seung-gil’s energy. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Phichit smirked. “I think we both know what’s—”

“Don’t say it,” Seung-gil muttered, barely catching the innuendo in time. 

“It’s love, Seung-gil,” Phichit said, stroking his cheekbone and resting his hand on Seung-gil’s shoulder. “And I’m pretty sure it’s normal. Give it a few months and we won’t be quite so obsessed with each other.”

But Seung-gil wasn’t so sure. It had already been a month and he couldn’t imagine not hanging on Phichit’s every word, breath, and sigh. Not unless he got a chance to see if he could still function on his own. 

Love really did change people. If he’d have known that going in…

“It makes me uncomfortable,” he said. 

Phichit didn’t respond right away. He pulled back, wrapping his arms around himself like the temperature had dropped. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

No double entendre hid beneath his words this time (though sex would have worked, albeit temporarily). 

“I don’t know,” Seung-gil admitted. “Leave me alone?”

“Ah,” Phichit said tonelessly. He dropped to the floor to pet Bada, scratching behind her ears for ages before he spoke again. “If I’m annoying you, you can just tell me, you know. I’ll back off.”

Phichit’s interpretation twisted his insides worse than a stab wound. Being with Phichit opened him up to a whole new world of not just joy and pleasure, but also pain. He’d suffered before, but always alone. It was all too much. “Don’t say it like that.”

“What does it matter how I say it if it’s true?” asked Phichit, not bothering to look up.

“You’re not…” Seung-gil balled his fists so tight his nails threatened to break the skin. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” Phichit’s voice held no malice. It didn’t hold anything at all. It sounded wrong. 

There had to be words that would fix this. Whether or not Seung-gil could find them was a different matter.

“I’m trying,” Seung-gil said, his voice breaking around the lump in his throat. “I’m trying, but it’s exhausting.”

A strained silence fell over the cabin. Phichit’s hands hung limply at his sides. The dogs nudged him, hoping he’d start petting them again. He didn’t. “Does this mean you don’t want to be with me anymore?” 

“I didn’t say that.”  _ Please don’t think that _ . 

“But you said I’m exhausting.”

“I said  _ it’s _ exhausting.” This was coming out all wrong. Phichit wanted him to be specific, so Seung-gil tried to think of the thing that was bothering him the most. Right now, it was obvious. “Talking. Talking is exhausting.” 

“Talking to  _ me, _ ” Phichit supplied. 

“It’s not like that!” Seung-gil cried, more frustrated with himself than with Phichit.

“Stop saying that!” Phichit looked up, his eyes flashing like steel in sunlight. He forced words through his teeth. “If there’s something I need to change, then just tell me.”

The dogs backed away from him, but they didn’t round on Phichit. They trusted him. Seung-gil trusted him, too. Phichit didn’t have to change a thing.

“I thought we were happy.” Phichit gripped the fabric of his pants like he didn’t know what else to do with his hands. “But if it’s not like that, then enlighten me,  _ Silent Wolf. _ ” He spat out each word slowly and deliberately. “What is it like?”

Chills shot down Seung-gil’s spine. That moniker hadn’t crossed Phichit’s lips since the first night they slept together, and even then it had been a joke. Coming from anyone else it was a gesture of respect, but from his lover it stung worse than nettle.

“I told you,  _ I’m _ the problem!” Seung-gil barked, his body shaking with shades of the unchecked rage of his youth. “How do you think I got that damn name? Do you think I said a single word to anyone if I didn’t have to?”

“This is your fourth crew,” Phichit countered, rising to his full height. “I’m sure you had to talk to someone.”

“None of those crews had  _ you _ ,” Seung-gil shot back. He’d never had a reason to talk or care before. He’d never wanted to. He didn’t particularly want to talk now, but he had to try because, like it or not, he  _ did _ care, and he couldn’t lose Phichit.

Phichit sneered, poised for a cutting remark. 

_ Fuck it.  _ Seung-gil jerked him forward and stole the scowl from his lips.

Talking was never going to work anyway.

Kissing, especially this kiss—raw, almost violent—was infinitely preferable, though it wouldn’t fix his problem either.

Phichit matched his anger, all vicious nails and teeth like he could wrench the pain from Seung-gil’s heart by inflicting more. Pirates were meant to kiss this way, meant to wield their tongues like blades, to leave marks and friction burns. Bright red lines would litter his back tomorrow but he loved Phichit rough and possessive just as much as he loved him playful and tender. 

_ I love him.  _ Always.

Seung-gil shoved Phichit away as hard as he’d grabbed him. Ragged breaths tore out of his lungs in time with the sharp rise and fall of Phichit’s shoulders. 

Always in sync.

Except when it came to this. 

“I’m sorry,” Phichit whispered, drained of the venom that had possessed him only seconds before. “This is hurting you, and that’s the last thing I want.”

The fight had left Seung-gil, too, but the emptiness in its wake wasn't any better. “I don’t want to hurt you, either," he said.

But they both knew it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *posts ~1800 words of angst* Is this crack?
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and words will never begin to express how it feels to see comments and kudos. ❤️
> 
> If you haven't already, please check out Songbirdsara's [Turncoat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689694) to learn more about everyone's favorite traitor to the crown, Sara Crispino! You might learn a little about Captain Vik and Kaptain Katsuki, too!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A solution presents itself, but maybe it's just another problem.

He and Phichit agreed not to change the course of their relationship but to slow down, and Seung-gil spent the night in the crew hammocks. It should have felt more like home than Phichit’s bunk—dogs outnumbered people below deck—but he wouldn’t have slept a wink even if Minami hadn’t snored all night. 

He shivered in the hammock, missing Phichit’s warmth and steadfast pulse, longing for that proof that his lover lived and breathed. 

Not that Seung-gil thought Phichit would perish without him (though Phichit might get buried alive under a mountain of huskies and hamsters). After all, Phichit had a normal, rational reaction to falling in love. 

Meanwhile, Seung-gil was perched on the precipice of death.

_ Don’t be ridiculous _ . This was exactly why they needed time apart (and not just because he now apparently required a nightly scuttling to fall asleep). 

“Why the long face?” Nishigori asked Phichit when they broke their fast in the morning. “Did you fall and hurt your, uh, your neck?”

_ Seriously? _ Had the cook never seen a hickey before? 

Seung-gil tugged at his own collar, thankful that Phichit had left most of his marks below the neck. He stared at the fish in front of him, as dead as his appetite. 

“Good morning,” said the other Nishigori, the woman. “Seems like you and Phichit finally settled your differences.” 

He started on his fish without acknowledging her.

“Must be nice not to have him riding your arse all day, huh?”

A piece of fish skin caught in his throat. Seung-gil embraced his pirate persona and left without a word, only giving into his coughing fit once he was sure no one would hear him or see the tears in his eyes. From coughing. He certainly wasn’t crying because he missed his boyfriend, who was still on the same ship. 

Seung-gil threw himself into his work, hoping a day of backbreaking labor would bring him a good night’s sleep.

It didn’t. Katsuki’s lapdogs flocked to him and he couldn’t turn them away. They pawed at his legs all night, endlessly hopping in and out of the hammock. It had been a long time since he had bunked with this many pups, but even though it was worse than he remembered, the poor dogs needed the space more than he did.

It wasn’t fair to keep so many dogs in such small quarters. Did Katsuki know what he was doing?

And Seung-gil wasn’t the only one who minded. Groans rose up from every corner of the room, and not the pleasured sort he and Phichit used to make upstairs. 

Thinking of those moments left him tossing and turning, floating between waking dreams and memories.

“I think he’s waking up,” someone hissed.

Seung-gil must have drifted off. He opened one eye and nearly fell out of his hammock when he found half a dozen of his crewmates leaning over him. The fanged one hovered right in his face. 

“Mister Silent Wolf, sir!” Minami saluted, even though Seung-gil didn’t outrank him. “We need your help!”

It was far too early for this. “What?”

“Will-you-please-speak-to-the-Kaptain-about-the-dog-situation?” Minami let it all out in one breath and it took Seung-gil a moment to parse his words.

“ _ About the dog situation _ ?” he echoed at less than half the speed.

“There are too many of them, Silent Wolf,” said another deckhand. 

“Seung-gil,” he corrected them. There was no need for his title when they were all on the same ship. 

“The Kaptain needs to find homes for them when we make port,” said Guang Hong. “I’m worried about their health.”

Minami shook his head. “You know he won’t rehome them. He wouldn’t steal the dogs if he thought anyone else could take better care of them.”

“But he  _ can’t _ take care of them,” another crewmate pointed out. 

“Anyway, we think you should talk to him, Mr. Seung-gil!” Minami said, face set in determination. “He might actually listen to you.”

Seung-gil frowned. Every single one of them knew Katsuki better than he did. Why him? “Did any of you try talking to him?”

They all fell silent. 

“We’re too scared,” someone said.

“The Kaptain isn’t exactly reasonable when it comes to dogs,” Guang Hong added. 

Minami finished with, “But he’ll listen to you!”

Seung-gil sighed in resignation. All of their concerns were valid, and Katsuki did seem to respect him. One of the pups crawled into his lap and whined, and Seung-gil knew what he had to do.

He’d do it for the dogs.

But when he headed up to the main deck, he found himself face to face with Phichit.

“Oh.” Phichit looked away and took a step back. With those red lines in his eyes and heavy bags beneath, Seung-gil might as well have been looking in a mirror. Phichit forced a smile, shattering the illusion. “Good morning.”

“Yeah,” Seung-gil replied, even though it wasn’t. Why was everything so awkward? They were still together, weren’t they?

“Did you sleep at all?” Phichit asked. He reached out as if he might brush Seung-gil’s hair out of his eyes, then pulled his hand back. 

“No.” 

Phichit’s smile, if he could call it that, vanished. “Seung-gil…” He took Seung-gil’s hand. “Come back to my room. We’ll both sleep better.”

“It’s the dogs,” Seung-gil said. He didn’t drop Phichit’s hand or snatch his own away. It wasn’t a total lie—the dogs hadn’t let him sleep. The fact that he saw Phichit’s face every time he closed his eyes was beside the point. 

“What about the dogs?”

Seung-gil relayed the issue in as few words as possible. 

“I had no idea it was so bad down there,” Phichit said. He squeezed Seung-gil’s hand. “That’s so nice of you to speak for the deckhands!”

Seung-gil only replied with a grunt. 

Phichit’s dull, tired eyes brightened. “Hey! We’re having an officers’ meeting! Why don’t you come?”

Officers’ meetings had always been a chance for Min-so to chew him out as publicly as possible. Yuuri probably ran them differently, but the idea still rubbed him the wrong way. Seung-gil hadn’t even held meetings when he was a captain.

Just another reason he had failed.

“Hey, I’ll be with you the whole time.” Phichit rubbed soothing circles on the back of Seung-gil’s hand with his thumb. 

Seung-gil met his eyes. That did make it sound more tolerable. 

“Okay.”

The officers gathered in the galley, Seung-gil lurking in Phichit’s shadow. But instead of looming imposingly over his subordinates like Min-so had, Katsuki sat down and smiled. 

“All right, mates,” he began, “we’ll be making port in Hasetsu soon, so let’s run through our checklist to make sure we can gather all the supplies we need for our people and pups. Sara?”

Crispino nodded and checked off each item with no complaints. 

“Great, Sara.” Katsuki nodded and said, “Next, I want to recognize Leo for his fantastic navigation through the storm two days ago.”

The officers applauded and Leo bowed, wearing a sheepish smile. “It’s really thanks to Seung-gil,” said Leo, gesturing to him. “His star charts have really improved our efficiency.”

All of the officers turned to Seung-gil, most of them only now noticing his presence. Phichit burst into applause and the others followed, hesitant.

“Seung-gil!” Katsuki’s eyebrows went up. “I appreciate your contributions, but I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Seung-gil has a grievance, Kap’n,” Phichit announced. 

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. “Very well.”

Did Katsuki really think Seung-gil would speak on personal matters at an officers’ meeting? Seung-gil clicked his tongue, but he brushed the annoyance aside. “The situation in the crew quarters is dire,” he began before launching into an explanation of just how the dogs interfered with sleep and work.

Katsuki listened, his face contorting into a look of horror as Seung-gil spoke. When he finished, Katsuki was clutching his heart. “I had no idea. Seung-gil, are you saying we have,” he gulped, “too many dogs?”

“Aye, sir.” But there was no such thing as too many dogs, so Seung-gil corrected himself. “Too many dogs for the space in the crew quarters. It is fair to neither the dogs nor your deckhands.”

Katsuki scratched his chin, brow wrinkled in distress. “I see. And have you a proposed solution?”

The suggestion of rehoming the dogs drifted into his mind, but before he could speak, Phichit put a hand on his arm and stepped around him.

“Kap’n, if I may?” At Katsuki’s nod, Phichit went on, “We will make port in Hasetsu soon, yes?”

“Aye,” said Katsuki. 

“And a certain piece of booty,” he glanced back at Seung-gil, “will be in shipshape?”

“Aye.”

“Then perhaps it’s time we expanded our fleet,” said Phichit. “It would show those who might stand against us that we are a force to be reckoned with, and allow our pups the space they need to thrive. And our young’uns.”

Katsuki looked thoughtful, concern fading into a smirk. “Matey, are you suggesting a dog fleet?”

“Aye, Kap’n!” Phichit nodded, then grabbed Seung-gil’s hand and thrust it skyward. “And I nominate Seung-gil Lee for command!”

“WHAT?!” Seung-gil turned to Phichit so fast his neck cracked, but Phichit just smiled up at him. 

“If he accepts, that is,” said Phichit, lowering his hand and placing it gingerly at his side. “He knows dogs the best of anyone aboard the Vicchan, and he has leadership experience.”

He didn’t mention that how that leadership experience had ended with Seung-gil deserted on a battered ship.

“Seconded,” said Leo.

Katsuki nodded. “Well, Seung-gil?”

Was this already a done deal? How had it happened so fast? Commanding another ship, leading a crew where dogs outnumbered humans? Months ago, it would have been a dream come true, but now…

This was what he said he wanted. Seung-gil had asked for space, to be heard, and Phichit had listened. A rough night didn’t change the fact that he had become too dependent on Phichit. 

“I accept,” Seung-gil said. There were no other nominations, and the vote was unanimous. 

Nishigori whistled once the meeting had adjourned. “Couldn’t wait to get him off the ship, eh?” he joked to Phichit. “You two really can’t stand each other, can you?”

But one glance at Phichit’s bittersweet expression and Seung-gil knew the truth.

Their love ran deeper than the ocean, deep enough to swallow them both whole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter working title: mo puppies mo problems
> 
> I swear, the cracky bits are on the horizon! The crack is just backloaded. And the tags don't lie, a happy ending is coming, too! Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Be sure to check out the second chapter of Turncoat if you haven’t already, and we'll see you next week for more pirate adventures!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vicchan docks in Hasetsu and other metaphors.

Preparations for docking in Hasetsu kept Phichit busy for the next few days, and Seung-gil had his hands full caring for the dogs.

He had to focus on the dogs, because every time he thought about commanding his own ship again, his stomach threatened to empty itself, and every time he thought about not being on the same ship as Phichit, his heart felt heavy enough to capsize. But he didn’t get a chance to talk to Phichit before the anchor dropped.

The Kaptain and his seconds-in-command disappeared as soon as they made landfall. No one else seemed to find it strange, so Seung-gil let it go, too. He had enough to worry about getting his huskies to the local canine specialist.

“I’ll be taking these little cuties,” said Guang Hong, gesturing to all of the dogs at Seung-gil’s heel. “It’s time for their check ups.”

“I was going to—” Seung-gil started to protest. 

Leo, who was already walking six dogs, shook his head. “We’ll take them. Guang Hong did his apprenticeship with the specialist here and she agreed to sell us some supplies at cost,” he explained.

“I can assist,” Seung-gil offered. The dogs were his responsibility, after all. 

Guang Hong shook his head. “She’s willing to work with me, but too many pirates will just arouse suspicion. I don’t want her to get in trouble.”

He had a point, and aside from Phichit, there was no one he trusted more with the pups than Guang Hong. 

But with Mambo stretching her wings, Phichit taking care of the Kaptain’s mysterious business, and no dogs, he had no one. So, he walked. 

Hasetsu was a small, sleepy port. Only a few boats occupied the docks, and some of them were completely shrouded, like they hadn’t seen open waters in months, if not years. Little shops lined a marketplace, bordered by small inns, taverns, and homes with raised wooden decks and paper-screened windows. It was picturesque, if a little vulnerable.

People kept to themselves, although Katsuki’s name echoed almost reverently everywhere Seung-gil wandered. Why was he so famous in this little nothing of a town?

“Seung-gil!” 

As always, that voice stopped Seung-gil in his tracks. He had no idea how long he had been aimlessly wandering, just waiting to see Phichit.

There was no missing him now, framed in sunbeams and smiling even brighter than Mambo’s feathers. 

“SEUNG!”

Seung-gil’s heart sang as his parrot called for him, sweeping past Phichit to perch on his shoulder. Phichit met them in the middle of the road.

“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing the soft plumage at her neck. “It took a lot of almonds to get that much out of her.” She bent her little head to let him, gently holding his finger with her beak. Once upon a time she had bitten Phichit hard enough to draw blood; now she loved him almost as much as Seung-gil did.

Seung-gil stroked Mambo too, then reached for Phichit with his other hand. “You taught her my name.”

“We’ve missed you.” Phichit leaned into Seung-gil’s touch. “Been looking for you.”

_ Definitely still together_, Seung-gil thought. “I was looking for you, too.” 

Phichit took his hand. “Let’s walk and talk.”

“Okay.”

But neither of them said much else for several blocks. Mambo nipped at Seung-gil’s ear every few steps, softly for either reassurance or affection, or both. “Why does everyone here know the Kaptain?” Seung-gil asked after he heard yet another whisper of  _ Katsuki_. 

Phichit shrugged and looked away pointedly. “Oh, look! This inn serves shabu-shabu. Are you hungry?”

Seung-gil was. He nodded to Mambo and she took to the skies, and he and Phichit went into the restaurant. 

Someone said  _ Katsuki _ during the meal and Seung-gil shot his lover a pointed look. Phichit’s flush had nothing to do with hot broth. 

“Okay, fine.” Phichit leaned in even though Seung-gil hadn’t asked anything. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell him I told you, but Yuuri was born here. He’s famous.”

“Infamous?” Seung-gil offered in correction. Phichit shook his head and Seung-gil frowned. “If everyone knows him, then why doesn’t he want anyone to know?”

At this, Phichit sighed so heavily that some steam blew into Seung-gil’s face, filling his nose with that seductive, beefy aroma. 

“It’s a whole thing. Sara and I had to drag him just to get him to see his...never mind.” Phichit groaned. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

Listening was getting difficult, but Seung-gil forced himself to focus. He owed Phichit that much, though he felt even less like talking now that his belly was full of meat. Phichit was already good enough to eat, but when he smelled like food, he was irresistible. Perhaps they could have dessert later.

“I’m sorry I panicked about you needing space,” Phichit said, setting his chopsticks down. “I was scared. I thought you wanted to leave me.”

That was the last thing Seung-gil wanted. 

“But I’ve been thinking a lot this past week,” Phichit went on. “You’ve been on your own for a long time. Of course this is strange for you. And maybe we both need to figure out how to be together without being, you know,” Phichit interlocked two of his fingers, “like this all the time.”

After days apart, Seung-gil craved time spent  _ like that. _ But that craving still terrified him just as much as it had days ago.

“That’s why I volunteered you,” Phichit said. “And because I think you’re a better leader than you give yourself credit for. But I can’t make the decision for you.”

Seung-gil shook his head. “I agreed to do it,” he muttered. “I need to prove I can.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to prove anything to me.” Phichit’s smile warmed Seung-gil’s stomach even more than the meal. Phichit took his hand from across the table and stood. “Come on. There’s something I need to show you.”

A poodle carved on a shop’s sign in the marketplace kicked Seung-gil’s memory into gear. “We should get the dogs first. They must be ready by now.” Seung-gil tried to turn in the direction he remembered Guang Hong and Leo going, but Phichit held tight and didn’t budge. 

“They’re in good hands,” Phichit assured him, his eyes soft and playful. “And so are you.”

Seung-gil liked the sound of that. “Okay.”

Phichit untied a strip of red cloth from his waist and dangled it in front of Seung-gil’s face. “Let’s make this a surprise.”

Arousal thrummed once more as visions of the last time they had played with blindfolds flashed through his memory. It must have shown on his face, because Phichit grinned and said, “Patience, Seung-gil.”

Everything turned red as Phichit secured the fabric over Seung-gil’s eyes. Soft lips brushed his ear. “Come with me.”

Seung-gil would go anywhere Phichit led him. Their journey took them across soft ground, dirt roads, and a wooden deck, Phichit occasionally murmuring things like, “Watch your step” and “Hold on to me.” 

“Is this a gangplank?” Seung-gil asked, testing a wobbly piece of wood with his foot.

Warm hands steadied his hips. “I won’t let you fall.”

“I know.” And Seung-gil let Phichit guide him across the plank. 

On the other side, they rocked on lullaby waves, the sea almost as comforting as Phichit’s arms around him. Salty breeze filled his nose, along with the smell of paint and something familiar. 

“Stop right here,” Phichit said. He undid the blindfold but held it in place. “Are you ready?”

Seung-gil nodded once and Phichit let the fabric slip away.

Indeed, they were aboard a freshly painted ship, but Seung-gil knew her body better than he knew his own. Her masts, her deck, her walls: everything sparkled like new. He looked up, though he needed no confirmation, toward her brilliant flag. “The Almavivo,” he whispered. Seung-gil didn’t believe in gods, but it came out like a prayer. 

“She’s been fully restored, Seung-gil. For you. For the dog fleet.” 

From her parrot’s nest down to her crew bunks, from plank to prow, this ship was part of him. Most of the memories brought him pain, but with a fresh coat of lacquer, Seung-gil could start anew. 

On his own, but never alone.

“Still with me?” Phichit asked, taking Seung-gil’s hand as they took in the upgrades to his ship.

Seung-gil nodded once. “Always.”

Gulls called softly in the distance as the Almavivo bobbed on the remnants of the waves that reached the Hasetsu docks. Soon, Mambo’s squawks would ring out from her perch on the mizzen and barking dogs would amble about the deck, but for now, it was peaceful. 

Phichit cupped Seung-gil’s face and turned it toward his own, his lips curling up in a salacious smile. “We should christen her.” 

“I don’t have any champagne,” Seung-gil replied. 

“Pity,” Phichit said, releasing Seung-gil’s cheek to run his hand up and down the rigid, gleaming mast in languid strokes. “Guess you’ll just have to pop  _ my _ cork.”

That sounded much better than wine. Seung-gil took both of his hands and stretched them out, port and starboard. With one step toward the bow, he closed the gap, kissing Phichit with love and passion the likes of which the Almavivo had never witnessed. 

Her deck had never seen Seung-gil’s bare arse before, either, but being with Phichit made him unashamed, unhesitant. Phichit (who didn’t have much shame to begin with) spread his coat over the floor, then returned to Seung-gil’s side. 

“This vessel is yours to command,” he said, pressing his naked body flush against Seung-gil’s, “and so’s the ship.”

But Seung-gil would think of the ship later, not while Phichit was pulling him down to the covered spot on the deck. By touch, by taste, by memory, Seung-gil navigated him, lingering in his favorite places, the ones that always left them both writhing and breathless.

“How do you want me, Commander?” asked Phichit, voice wanton, close to Seung-gil’s ear.

Though the title jarred him less than  _ Captain, _ Seung-gil wrinkled his nose. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then what would you have me call you?” 

“My name will do,” Seung-gil said. Once more he took Phichit’s hands, threading their fingers together and bracing them against the wood. 

Phichit let out a soft moan. “Oh,  _love_...” 

That wasn’t his name, but it sent a hot shockwave through his body. 

“Again,” Seung-gil commanded, plucking a single kiss from Phichit’s lips. 

Again and again Phichit said it,  _ love, love, love,  _ Seung-gil answering his every call with soft nips to his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, down, down, down until he rendered Phichit speechless.

Gentle surf lapped at the hull of the Almavivo, but aboard her deck, the tide came crashing in. Restored beyond her former glory and with a purpose finally worthy of her majesty, she embarked on her second maiden voyage without leaving the dock. 

The coat spread out beneath them offered no cushioning or comfort, but Seung-gil was too relaxed and limber to care. Phichit’s neck, bared in mid-stretch, begged to be kissed, so Seung-gil did.

“Incredible,” Phichit murmured. He threw out an arm (the one that wasn’t wedged between them) and patted the deck. “She’s a good ship.”

“A good _ship?_” Seung-gil echoed, narrowing his eyes. Phichit was right about the Almavivo, of course, but that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. 

With effort, Phichit rolled toward him, patting Seung-gil’s arse in the same clumsy way. “You’re a good ship, too.”

“Again with the metaphors,” Seung-gil muttered. But his lips refused to frown. 

“Well, you certainly know how to handle rough seas.” Phichit propped himself up on his elbow and let his free hand dance over Seung-gil’s skin. Still oversensitive in the afterglow, Seung-gil buckled and the faintest of giggles slipped out before he could tamp it down.

“Stop.”

“I have to tickle you a little,” Phichit said. “This is the only time I can.” 

Seung-gil pushed the offending fingers away. Enough of his strength had returned to push Phichit onto his back. “Is that any way to treat your Commander?” he demanded, hovering in Phichit’s space.

“Oh, now you want to lord your title over me?” Phichit teased. “Because I’m not afraid to tickle a superior officer. Just ask Yuuri.”

Seung-gil narrowed his eyes, not jealous, but not at all amused by the joke.

“Relax! It was good, clean, drunken fun,” Phichit assured him. Eyes alight with determination, he added, “Not like I went for  _ his _ nutmegs.”

Seung-gil seized his wrists before he could do just that. “Don’t.”

“Fine.” Phichit didn’t struggle in his grip. “Seeing as this is your ship, I’ll play nice.”

_ My ship. _ It still sounded strange, even though this ship had been his before. It didn’t matter that he was part of the Kaptain’s krew; he’d have his own crew to manage, dozens of dogs to mind, and Phichit would be so, so far away.

“Hey.” Phichit touched his face, bringing Seung-gil back to him. “I see that storm brewing. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to talk, but I’m here if you do.”

Now, with only Phichit and the wind to hear him, it was easier to be vulnerable.

“I’m not sure if I can do this,” Seung-gil admitted. He buried his nose where Phichit’s neck met his shoulder, but he kept his next fear to himself.  _ I’m not sure if I can be away from you. _

“You’ll be fine.” Phichit wrapped his arms around him, letting Seung-gil rest on his chest. “_We’ll_ be fine.”

“How do you know?” asked Seung-gil, looking up at his face. 

Phichit shot him a reassuring smile, but he couldn’t suppress a shiver. Now that they weren’t making waves, the breeze felt much cooler. 

Seung-gil reached for his own discarded coat and pulled it over their bodies, settling at Phichit’s side. 

“Yuuri’s always getting on my case about spending too much coin,” Phichit said, tucking Seung-gil under his arm beneath their too-short cover. “Says I don’t know the value of money.”

Seung-gil snickered. “Merchant brat.” 

“Guilty.” Phichit smiled up at the sky. “Maybe he’s right. He always has to remind me to go back for the gold.”

“Funny,” Seung-gil scoffed, “considering the Kaptain steals dogs.”

“He’s quite the businessman, unlike me,” said Phichit. “My parents tried to force it, but I think it skipped a generation. Also, they’re a couple of lily-livered, bilge-sucking gobshytes.”

An ugly sneer twisted Phichit’s face—he never talked about his family aside from these short, vulgar bursts—but it vanished in the blink of an eye. 

“Suffice it to say, I’m not in it for the booty.” With a wink, Phichit amended, “Your booty, definitely, but not gold or jewels. Not even hamsters.”

Seung-gil groaned. The back of his head was starting to ache. “Good to know my booty meets your high standards.”

He started to sit up but Phichit stopped him with just a loving gaze. 

“It’s _you_, Seung-gil,” said Phichit, pressing a hand to his chest, right in the center. “Your heart’s the only treasure no one had to tell me to steal. It’s the most precious treasure I’ve ever…” Phichit swallowed. He usually cracked jokes when he was nervous, but his eyes carried no humor now. “Well, is it mine?”

“Yes,” promised Seung-gil, determined to bring Phichit’s spark back. “Forever, my heart is yours.”

Their makeshift blanket became a makeshift handkerchief as Phichit dabbed at the happy tears in his eyes. “And you have mine,” he swore. “Always.”

Seung-gil had read enough romance to know that declarations like those came with breath-stealing, heart-stopping kisses.

Phichit pulled back, sunlight reflected in his low-lidded eyes. “I have complete faith in you. That’s how I know we’ll be all right.”

It sounded so simple when Phichit said it. Like love was something beautiful and constant, and nothing bad could ever come of it. 

“I trust you, too,” Seung-gil whispered. He didn’t trust himself, but Phichit’s faith would have to be enough for now.

Phichit stretched his arms behind his head and reclined on the deck. “And if you miss me, just send Mambo to the Vicchan and I’ll row over.”

Seung-gil whipped his neck toward Phichit, a joint popping as he did—they really had to get off the floor, but he could have sworn Phichit had just said...

“Row over?” That would take days if not weeks, and it would be dangerous. How would Phichit even find the Almavivo?

“Didn’t I tell you?” Phichit was grinning now. “You’ll be right behind us.”

“What?!” Phichit might as well have doused him in seawater. 

“It’s not that Yuuri doesn’t trust you. He just wants the dogs close.” Phichit shrugged. “I wasn’t about to complain. We get a little space, but we can still see each other whenever we want.”

“That sounds…” Seung-gil couldn’t find the words, but he let his smile speak for him. 

“I didn’t understand then, but I think I’m starting to.” Phichit ran the back of his hand down Seung-gil’s face, gazing at him for a long time. “I love you, Seung-gil. You don’t have to say it back or—”

Seung-gil surged forward until he was nose to nose with Phichit. “I love you.”

Declarations like that came with kisses, too, kisses that were too passionate for the floor. 

“You know,” Phichit began, brushing Seung-gil’s hair out of his eyes, “your quarters have been renovated, too. We’d be remiss if we didn’t take a look, make sure they meet muster.”

The Commander of the Almavivo was happy to report that his quarters, like the rest of his ship, were more than suitable for voyages both distant and very, very close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this qualify as the happy ending even if there are 2 chapters left? I guess that means the next two chapters are actual crack, but with a lot of heart, not to mention some of the most ridiculous stuff I've ever written. I think we're still good with the M rating, but...
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Special thanks to mindifimoveincloser for helping me sort out Phichit’s feelings, too.
> 
> Be sure to read the latest chapter of Songbirdsara's Turncoat (with a special surprise guest!) if you haven't already, and tune in next week for more pirate shenanigans!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung-gil and Phichit navigate the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter contains more explicit language than the rest of the fic. Let me know if you feel like I've made a mistake with the rating and I will adjust.

“Well?” 

It took a moment for Seung-gil to realize Crispino was addressing him, and he only blinked in response. 

“Did Phichit give you your parting gift?” she asked. 

The ship. She was talking about the Almavivo. 

“S’pose it’s all water under the bridge for you two now? Or perhaps _through_ it?” 

Or not. 

Crispino narrowed her eyes at him when he still didn’t respond. “You’re even worse than Phichit. Can’t get a straight answer out of either of you.”

Phichit materialized at her side and draped an arm around her. “Well, my dear, let’s just say there were some choppy waves, but it’s all smooth sailing from here.”

She rolled her eyes. “I see how it is. He never talks because your bloody mouth fires more often than a faulty cannon.”

“We swashed bucklers, all right, but don’t worry, we mopped up the spills,” Phichit plowed on as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “Why are you so curious? Getting a little long in the heels? Shoals feeling a little sandy?”

“Ask my arse,” Sara grunted, elbowing him aside. “I knew I should have sailed with the Kat’s Paw. Far too many swords swashing on this damn ship.”

_ One fewer after today_, Seung-gil thought, losing interest in their increasingly vulgar bickering. Traveling with the pups would be quieter. He wanted quieter, didn’t he? He wanted time to himself. 

He wanted to be self-sufficient again. 

The rest of the krew helped transfer the dogs, Seung-gil barely acknowledging their goodbyes. Yuuri lingered, lavishing each dog with tearful attention, and then Phichit was the last of the Vicchan krew left aboard.

Words coagulated in Seung-gil’s throat, sticky and inadequate. 

“Ready to set sail, Commander?” Phichit’s quivering voice betrayed his ever-present confidence.

“No,” Seung-gil replied, the lump in his throat shrinking a fraction. He took a step forward, compelled to be brave for Phichit. “But I will.” 

Phichit bridged the rest of the distance, gripping him by the back of the neck. Their foreheads collided, maybe a little harder than Phichit intended, but neither of them winced or pulled back.

“I know you will.” Phichit closed his eyes and Seung-gil felt him slip some folded parchment into his hand. “Save it for a lonely night,” Phichit whispered.

“A letter?” Guilt stabbed at Seung-gil’s stomach. “I didn’t write you anything.”

Phichit’s smile never faltered. “That’s all right. You can send me your reply soon.” 

“How?” 

Mambo squawked and flew over to perch on Seung-gil’s shoulder. Unshed tears shimmered in Phichit’s eyes when he opened them, and he reached for Seung-gil’s face. “You’ll think of a way,” he said. But instead of stroking his cheek, Phichit stroked Mambo’s head. 

Her soft coos reverberated through Seung-gil’s bones all the way down to his feet. He pressed a trembling kiss to Phichit’s lips, feather-light and hesitant. They didn’t pull away from each other; they just stopped kissing, sharing space for as long as they could, breath bated in a feeble attempt to pause time. More tears, Phichit’s or his own, dampened their lips. 

“We’ll see each other again soon, love,” Phichit whispered. “Just send Mambo.” 

They stayed like that until the new crew of the Almavivo came to report that preparations were complete. With one last hug, Phichit returned to his ship, and Seung-gil took the helm of his own. 

He didn’t dare think about Phichit’s letter until long after the Vicchan’s colors blended into the sunset. 

“Stay this course,” he told his second, then took off for his quarters. 

He couldn’t let his new crew see him cry. 

Carefully, he unfolded the letter. Had Phichit’s hands shaken as he’d written it? Had they trembled when he’d sealed it, knowing it was likely to be weeks if not months before they were together again?

_ Seung-gil, _

_ Here’s something to keep you company while we’re apart.  _

_ When I see you again I’m going to lick every single one of your toes and then see how many of them I can fit in my mouth at once.  _

Seung-gil’s eyes shot wide open. He wasn’t opposed to the idea; he just had no idea Phichit was interested in that particular part of his body. 

It wasn’t the sentimental confession he was expecting, but he was even more grateful for the privacy. Just in case, he double checked that Mambo was outside and the door to his quarters was locked before returning to the letter. 

_ I hope you had more pants made because I’m going to rip yours off with my teeth and lick all the way up from your heels to the backs of your knees. Have I tickled you there yet? Have I fucked you there yet? I want to.  _

Seung-gil stuck out his bare leg (he’d ditched his pants somewhere around the word _teeth_). Twisting his heel, he tried to glimpse the underside of his own knee. The sight of it didn’t ignite any latent fires, but when it came to his body, Phichit could stick it anywhere he wanted. 

_ But you don’t really think I’m going to stop there, do you? Because once I’m done with your knees I’m going to lick my way up your thighs, heave down and swab the whole fecking galley. _

Seung-gil squinted. Was that some kind of euphemism? What did it even mean? He might have misread it—the ink was smudged to near illegibility (and Phichit was no scribe to begin with). Maybe the next line would give him a contextual clue.

_ Don’t worry about a bath. I’ll throw you overboard first so you’ll be salty from the inside out. _

Seung-gil sucked in a breath. So  _that_ was what it meant. Well, _ that  _ definitely lit a fire. 

_ Or maybe we’ll fuck right there in the drink. I want to make you scream so loud that Davy Jones rises from the dead, so loud that every parrot in the world learns my damn name.  _

_ Then you’ll jibe the mainsail and fuck me so hard the parrots will have to teach me my own damn name again. _

_ I love you. Please write back. _

_ Phichit _

Seung-gil had to read it three more times before he managed to dress and face his crew again.

Days passed and he revisited the letter again and again, feeling both better and worse every time. Better because body and soul, he missed Phichit and the letter was far more comforting than the Vicchan’s flag on the horizon, but worse because his hands froze and his cheeks burned at the mere thought of responding in kind.

How did Phichit just  _ write _ those things? Maybe he had been so bold because he had delivered his letter by hand. Sending a letter with Mambo carried risk. What if someone intercepted it before it reached Phichit?

“NO!” Mambo squawked at his side.

Seung-gil smiled. “You’d bite anyone who tried, wouldn’t you?” 

And yet every time he sat down to write, his quill faltered. He could picture Phichit, could see everything they had done and all the things he longed to do, but couldn’t put pen to paper.

He had to be rational. Code names could offer a modicum of privacy. Katsuki’s krew didn’t concern him. He could dip his wick right on the deck and those fools would assume he and Phichit were wrestling.

Maybe he could put that in the letter.

The blank parchment stared him down until he was blue in the face (and balls), but he still couldn’t manage it.

Defeated, he slammed his head and hands on the desk, knocking a couple books to the ground. Only a few of his old romance serials had made their way back to the Almavivo, and he hadn’t touched them since setting sail.

Their well-worn leather covers were nowhere near as supple as Phichit’s skin, but with their stories in mind, Seung-gil sat back down and wrote. 

_ My Horizon, _

_ May this message and its messenger find you safe and healthy. Due to the personal nature of these messages, I’ve elected to use a pet name. Excuse my frivolity. _

_ I continue to appreciate your last correspondence (twice already today), though neither my hands nor my imagination compare to yours. I’m quite interested in what you propose, and I will do my best to reciprocate in this letter. It is difficult for me, though it helps to imagine you and what you might enjoy reading and doing.  _

_ If you were here I would kiss your sweet lips, my love, and number your eyelashes. I’d measure the angle of your jaw and submit it as the standard for perfection. Artists should study your neck, though they could never recreate the lines of your shoulders and collar, for your aesthetics are without peer. Your chest could be a wonder of the world, sought by explorers and prized more than gold, if only I were willing to share. I am not. Let me next exalt your hips, chiseled finer than marble and more stalwart than stone. I never believed in fate until I met you, my Horizon, until I beheld the harmony of our loins, as if I was made for you and you, me. My loins ache for you now, with a depth and breadth I lack the cleverness to describe. I miss you, and I love you. _

_ Most ardently,  
_ _ Your Treasure _

Mambo hurried his letter to his dear treasure, but it wasn’t Mambo who returned with a response.

_ My Treasure,  _

_ You’re the cleverest person I know, and your imagination does just fine. Allow me to introduce you to our new baby. What should we call her? _

Seung-gil looked at the brilliant green bird, sitting on Mambo’s perch near the helm as if she belonged there. _Our baby_, he thought. Perhaps it was her place, too. 

Those green feathers jogged a latent memory from a visit to a marketplace on shore: Phichit, stroking the dull green flesh of what he proclaimed to be one of the most precious delicacies land had to offer. Even the ripest, juiciest fruit had never appealed to Seung-gil, so a hard, unripe mango made no sense at all. 

“I don’t miss much about home, but I do miss these,” Phichit had said, his voice reverent. 

Katsuki would have eaten his hat at the amount of coin Phichit had dropped on that mango, but it was worth it for the look of near orgasmic pleasure on his face when he had peeled back the skin with his dagger and taken that first, crisp bite of flesh. 

Seung-gil’s chest ached for Phichit, and this parrot, this beautiful gift, already held a piece of his heart. 

“Mango,” he called her, running his finger up and down the soft feathers on her neck.

“FUCK!” she squawked.

Seung-gil pinched the bridge of his nose and went back to the letter.

_ I want to choke on your dick. _

Well.

“Take the helm,” he told his second in command. He took off for his quarters without waiting for a response. 

_ My Horizon,  _ he wrote later,  _ She is lovely. I named her for your favorite fruit, but while she keeps watch on the horizon, allow me a flight of fantasy of my own. _

_ I never craved anything sweet before you. Your smile taunts me, when you get your hands on a piece of fruit, feel the heft of it, squeeze its tender meat. You take that first bite, juice spills down your chin, and I die. The only thing that revives me is licking that succulent trail from your skin, drinking it from your luscious mouth.  _

_ I am a selfish man who has only known selfish people, and before I tasted that lime on your tongue that night in the brig, I’d have rather died than eat fruit. Now my mouth waters at the memory. I knew I loved you then, and there is no fruit so cloying it might keep me from drinking its sweet liquor, as long as the flesh is yours.  _

_ Always,   
_ _ Your Treasure _

After that letter, Phichit rowed over for three nights of ecstasy aboard the Almavivo. An inspection, he’d told Katsuki, which meant Guang Hong came along with him, but so far Phichit had only really inspected Seung-gil and his room.

“Don’t worry,” Phichit teased, splaying his fingers over Seung-gil’s bare chest. “I’ll tell Kap’n that the Commander runs a tight ship.”

“Be sure to tell him that I left your coffers fuller than I found them, too,” Seung-gil murmured. The arm he draped over his face shaded his eyes from the sun streaming in through his windows, but it couldn’t stop the daylight from coming to steal Phichit away from him. 

Phichit chuckled to himself and pressed a kiss to Seung-gil’s ribs. “And Guang Hong says the dogs are doing well.”

“Of course they are,” said Seung-gil, though it relieved him to hear that Guang Hong (with his medical training) thought so, too.

“But you’ll want to be careful,” added Phichit. “The Kaptain’s been getting a little too much attention lately. I’m afraid there’s a storm brewing out there.”

It didn’t surprise him. Perhaps the Dread Pirate JJ had his sights on the same booty, or even Captain Vik, now that Kaptain Katsuki was in his league. “I promise I’ll keep the dogs safe,” he said, holding Phichit’s hand fast to his heart.

“Keep yourself safe, too,” Phichit urged. “I love you. Never forget that.”

“I love you, too.” The words came easier now. Maybe the time apart was helping, but Seung-gil’s chest squeezed his heart tighter than ever before as Phichit and Guang Hong rowed away. 

“PHI-PHI-PHICHIT!” Mango and Mambo shrieked together, because parrots apparently learned from each other. For once, Seung-gil didn’t mind the volume when Phichit turned back to face him in the distance. He had to squint to see it but Phichit was smiling, and he tried to smile, too.

“Commander,” said a deckhand. “Are ye all right? Something’s wrong with yer face.”

His smile faded.

“DIE!” chorused the parrots.

Seung-gil gave them each an extra treat that night, then he snuggled with the puppies until the tears subsided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this crack?
> 
> This is what happens when I let <s>my</s> Phichit's freak flag fly. It was too much fun to write and I have been excited to post this silly chapter (and add that silly tag) since this story launched. I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Songbirdsara posted the thrilling conclusion to Turncoat yesterday, and Close Quarters wraps next week. We'll be hanging up our pirate coats for a little bit but Katsuki's Krew will never surrender! In the meantime, Songbirdsara has some exciting things coming soon, including her wonderful Angst Bang project! I might have a couple of spooky surprises up my sleeve as well.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. ❤️


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Correspondus interceptus and a few surprise guests.

_ “ARRRRRRR!” _

The Dread Pirate JJ Leroy had never encountered a parrot before, but he never expected them to be so aggressive. Being bitten was bad enough, but the blighted bird had to go and smack him in the face with both wings, just to add insult to injury. 

If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn the parrot  _ swore _ at him as it flew off, but it was hard to focus on anything but the blood oozing from his finger.

“Bandage, Cap’n?” offered a deckhand. 

JJ spit red feathers from his tongue. “Aye, Jenkins.” 

Jenkins wrapped JJ’s throbbing finger and JJ remembered that he held in his non-maimed hand what must have been a crucial piece of correspondence between Kaptain Katsuki’s ships. 

“Is everything all right, JJ?” Isabella rushed to the helm, her face lined with concern.

“‘Tis but a flesh wound, darling,” JJ assured her, grinning. 

“How did it happen?” 

“Ah,” JJ began. His smile faded as he struggled to find a cool way to say he had been attacked by a parrot. “I intercepted a missive from the Vicchan to the Almavivo.”

Isabella’s eyes shot wide open. “Was there a skirmish?” She looked around the deck, which bore no signs of strife. 

“Nay, merely a very aggressive,” he lowered his voice, “messenger parrot.”

“You didn’t hurt it, did you?” Isabella gasped.

“Of course not!” JJ waved his injured hand. “It nearly took my finger off! Jenkins, Joy, you both saw!”

His crewmates nodded dutifully. 

“Well, then it must be important,” said Isabella, coming to his side. She brought his bandaged hand to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss there. “Do you suppose it’s a map?”

JJ grinned. “Perhaps! If even the legendary Captain Vik changed course to pursue the Vicchan, there must be a legendary booty on board.”

“This could be just what we needed!” his quartermaster put in.

“Too right, Jalopy!” JJ said, brandishing his parchment conquest. 

Isabella helped him unroll it. “Read it aloud, darling!”

JJ grinned and summoned his performing voice. Piracy suited him better than balladry, but he never forgot how to command an audience. 

“_An Ode to My Treasure,_” he began, lips curling up with glee and greed, “_I have sailed these fair oceans since I was but a lad, and never have I laid eyes upon a more tantalizing trove than yours. Others have been too shortsighted and impatient to work your locks and break your seals, but their loss is our gain. You have given me fathomless booty, and only in my relentless quest to uncover its deepest depths did I discover the sweetest spoils within._”

“Boy, that’s a lot of buildup,” noted Jalopy.

JJ licked his lips and nodded; this treasure had to be _good_. 

“_Or something like that. Writing romantic stuff like this is hard, so please go easy on me,_” he read on. He scratched his beard and exchanged a glance with Isabella. That was a bizarre turn of phrase, but no matter. What was a little strange wording when it came to the booty of a lifetime? With a shrug, he returned to the letter. “_At least until we’re in each other’s arms again. Then, I want you to tie me up in the rigging and give me the weightless frigging I never knew I…_” JJ’s voice failed him.

“...JJ?” 

He couldn’t even respond to Isabella. Scanning the parchment, his eyes skidded over words like _spigot_, _suck_, and _shuttlecock_. The parchment slipped from between his fingers and fluttered to the deck. 

“I think this treasure is spoken for,” JJ coughed out.

“Well, we’re pirates, aren’t we? Let’s pilfer it!” Jenkins exclaimed. A few other crew members chimed in with hearty  _ Ayes.  _

“I think what the Captain is trying to say,” Isabella began, crouching down to gingerly pick up the letter, “is that this sort of treasure belongs in the bedroom.”

“Or the rigging,” Joy added with a wink. 

Cheeks aflame, JJ turned his back to his crew and reclaimed his place at the helm. This lead didn’t pan out, but the fact remained that Vik was chasing Katsuki. Surely his pursuit was nobler than this tawdry letter. 

“Onward!” he called. With his eyes fixed on the sea ahead, he didn’t notice Isabella slipping the letter into her jacket pocket.

***

Seung-gil was, above all else, rational.

He knew being away from the Vicchan was the best way to keep the dogs from falling into Captain Vik’s clutches. 

He knew evading Captain Vik would keep Kaptain Katsuki and his krew kompletely occupied.

He knew Phichit loved him and would never ignore his letters without good reason. 

But he also knew that hiding and waiting for directions was making him paranoid and panicked.

What if something had happened to Mambo on her flight? What if the Vicchan had been attacked? What if Phichit had been captured or killed? Piracy was dangerous by nature; that was part of its appeal. Seung-gil would lay down his life for his dogs, but the thought of losing Phichit, of never seeing him again...

The enemy would have to take Phichit over Seung-gil’s dead body.

But now he truly was far away. Phichit still sailed (as far as Seung-gil knew) while the Almavivo was docked in Hasetsu. 

And if Phichit wasn’t writing back, he had no way of getting in contact. Both parrots (provided nothing had happened to them) were now aboard the Vicchan. Perhaps it was just too dangerous to send letters.

Or perhaps Phichit had simply run out of things to say. Maybe he was so fed up with Seung-gil and his foolish need for distance that he was giving him the silent treatment.

That thought turned his stomach, most of all because he knew better. Phichit loved him, even if Seung-gil couldn’t curl his lover’s toes with a mere six words. Even if Seung-gil was afraid of the depth of his own feelings.

Even if Phichit was busy fighting for his life.

Seung-gil pounded the side of the boat with his fist.  _ Don’t think like that. _

Phichit was just too busy for silly letters. 

“NO!” came a shrill cry from the sky. 

Seung-gil snapped up to look overhead. Mambo floated down to greet him with another vulgar squawk and Seung-gil stroked her neck once before taking the letter from her leg.

_ We are unharmed. Hope you are too. There is to be a parley, with esteemed supervision. Please attend. _

Phichit had scrawled a coded time and a place in his messy hand—ingenious, really, because who else but Seung-gil and the Kaptain could decipher it?—but the letter seemed detached and cold. Had his sweet horizon been coerced? 

_ No, _ Seung-gil reminded himself, _ the point of a parley is to  _ prevent _ bloodshed.  _

Which meant that Phichit was just busy. But why did that perturb him so? He trusted Phichit with his entire heart.

_Because I miss him and I need him._ Knowing Phichit was okay, protecting each other, loving each other: all of that was more important than a few split-second urges for space and solitude. 

He wanted to ask Phichit to sail with him. Forever. Again. Phichit had turned him down last time, but that was as a mutineer. This time, they’d be on the same crew, just not on the Kaptain’s ship. 

Maybe Phichit would turn him down, but he had to ask.

He looked down at his clothes, which were covered in dog hair, holes, and slobber. Phichit may had fallen in love with him in the brig, but it had been months since they had last seen each other. Surely Seung-gil could do a little bit better than dirty work clothes. 

He needed to sweep Phichit off his feet, and to do that, he needed to dress to impress.

Tucking Phichit’s cold letter safely with the other, warmer ones, he gathered his coin and set off for the market.

Even in a small port like Hasetsu, the choices were overwhelming. Seung-gil had never cared what he wore before, but he found himself caring about a lot of new things these days.

Now the poodle sign hung above his head. He remembered this tailor from the last time he’d been in Hasetsu and had saved it for last. At the very least he might see a cute dog. 

“How can I help you?”

A cheerful man, old enough to be his father and totally unperturbed by Seung-gil’s appearance.

Seung-gil wished he had a parrot to talk for him.

“Clothes,” he grunted.

“You can say that again!” chuckled the man.

Seung-gil narrowed his eyes. “If you knew what I needed, then why did you ask me?”

“I suppose you’ve got me there!”

Even Phichit didn’t smile as much as this guy. 

“So, did you have a fabric in mind?”

Fabric? Seung-Gil frowned. He had never really thought about different fabrics before. 

“A color?” 

People cared what color they wore? Seung-gil tilted his head. He just always grabbed whatever was closest.

The man scratched his chin. “Well, how about an occasion?”

What did he call this occasion? “I’m going to ask the man I love to sail aboard my ship.”

“Oh, a proposal!” The shopkeeper's eyes lit up. “Formalwear is what you want! Give us a week and we’ll have the perfect jacket and pants for you.”

“I have one day,” Seung-gil replied.

“I’m afraid that’s going to be tough…” The man was still smiling but Seung-gil turned to leave. He didn’t even get to see a dog.

“Wait!” the man called. “I didn’t say we couldn’t do it! We’ll just have to be creative. I’ll go get my wife. Wait here, please!”

Seung-gil complied, because he was running out of options. 

“No no no, Toshiya,” came a higher voice. Its owner burst out from behind a curtain with a warm smile on her face. “This boy doesn’t want a suit coat, nor does he have the time.” 

Her tone was so fond, Seung-gil couldn’t tell if she was scolding her husband or not.

“You remind me of my son,” she went on, rushing to a rack of garments in the far corner of the room. She ruffled through them, humming to herself. “If he were trying to impress a boy, I’d tell him to wear something like—aha!”

With that, she pulled out an all black leather ensemble. Even with his limited experience with clothing, Seung-gil could tell it would be a tight fit. His nostrils flared. Was  _ this _ how mothers dressed their sons? He didn’t understand family at all. 

She cast a knowing smile at her husband, who was busy organizing fabrics on a shelf, then looked back at Seung-gil and winked. “It’s a family secret.” 

Relieved she wasn’t going to offer personal assistance, Seung-gil let himself be ushered into a back room to try it on. Once he had shimmied his legs into the fitted leather, he had to admit that the outfit looked like something Phichit had dreamed up in one of his letters.

“Don’t be shy, let’s see it!” the woman encouraged. Possessed by sentimental urges he didn’t fully understand, Seung-gil stepped out to be appraised.

“How dashing!” Toshiya exclaimed. “You’ve done it again, Hiroko!”

Hiroko beamed at Seung-gil, then came at him with pins. He flinched, but reminded himself this was probably necessary for tailoring. “Just needs a pinch here and a seam there. One of my people will have it done in an hour,” she said. “Are you saving enough food for yourself? I bet you feed everyone else first, just like my boy.”

If he didn’t know better, Seung-gil would have guessed she knew exactly what he did for a living. She insisted on providing him with new work clothes, at cost. 

“I’ll use these rags to polish the ships,” she said to herself, tossing his old clothes into a basket. “Now why don’t you come have some katsudon?” 

Seung-gil should have been suspicious, but he was also starving, and still feeling nostalgic for something he had never known. Once she explained that katsudon involved pork, he was convinced. 

The crew was taking care of the dogs, so he followed Hiroko back to the inn, which was also adorned with a poodle sign.

Her katsudon was delicious, and the largest meal he had eaten in months. Hiroko left him to his own devices to eat, so she either trusted him or had defenses that Seung-gil couldn’t see. 

En route back to the tailor shop, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched, so he suspected the latter. Perhaps it was just his imagination.

“All done!” Toshiya said. “Let’s just make sure the alterations worked out.”

Again, Seung-gil changed, but this time, he heard chatter on the other side of the wall. Was this an ambush? 

He steeled himself—even if it was a false alarm, it would be a good test of the practicality of these clothes. Crouching, he crept forward and  _ squeaked _ .

Well. That wouldn’t do for a surprise attack, but from the glimpse of his arse he caught in the looking glass, at least  _ Phichit _ would be surprised.

Squeaking be damned, he headed out and found three small children crowding Hiroko. They wore ruffled shirts and work pants, each in a different hue like tiny, color-coded pirates. They looked oddly familiar, and the more Seung-gil thought about it, so did Hiroko and Toshiya.

“It  _ is  _ him,” the pink one gasped. “Aunt Hiroko, you said he was nobody!”

The purple one folded her arms. “I told you she was lying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hiroko chided, smile never leaving her face.

“Silent Wolf has a sweetheart,” noted the blue one, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “but who could it be?”

Seung-gil’s eyes went wide. These children couldn’t possibly be spies, could they?

Hiroko didn’t seem worried. “Perfect fit,” she said, like she already knew it would be. “Now go sweep him off his feet.”

Seung-gil changed back without a word and exchanged his coin for leather. All he could manage was a mumbled, “Thanks.”

“Good luck!” Hiroko called. “And the pups are welcome to stay as long as you need. As many as you want.”

That had him doing a double take. How much did she know? Did she run the dog inn, too? 

Was she a  _ Katsuki _ ?

She watched him puzzle it out, beaming fondly all the while, and it clicked. That was the way Yuuri Katsuki smiled at dogs. 

He nodded to Hiroko and turned to leave, parcel in hand.

“I know that was Silent Wolf!” insisted one of the girls.

Hiroko’s voice was too soft to leave the confines of the room, but before he left, Seung-gil heard her say, “That nice boy? Oh, I doubt it.”

Hasetsu was a strange place indeed, but as Seung-gil watched it fade into the distance, he realized it was a safe harbor, too.

Huskies afoot, he turned back to the helm. The horizon, after all, awaited his return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you know what happens next (see Blow the Man Down if you don’t)! Is that the leather squeaking? Is it a hamster? Is it Phichit? I’ll let you decide.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading our Swordplay and Seamen series (and for indulging my Seungchuchu obsession). The comments, kudos, and twitter feedback have meant the world to both of us. This is the last piece for a little bit while Songbirdsara and I focus on other things, but we have more pirate adventures planned, so please stay tuned!
> 
> Finally, a shout out to [these amazing charts](https://io9.gizmodo.com/three-timelines-of-slang-terms-for-having-sex-from-135-1608522982) of historical terms for sex.


End file.
